


Earworm

by ActualHurry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: What if the Warden of Nothing strike was a mission Shin handled?(Set after the quest, "The Draw.")





	Earworm

It was rare that Shin ever sought after any Vanguard operations, and in fact he often tried to avoid it entirely. It wasn’t always possible, considering the reach and power the Vanguard had (and that wasn’t even considering the extent of their sponsorships when it came to missions, patrols, and strikes), but Shin tried his damnedest all the same. Usually, Guardians would take care of busy work like Vanguard ops themselves, but most had their hands full with the Dreaming City. The infinite cycle made for some battle-hungry Guardians lining the gates of the place. Shin thought it best he steered clear.

But all that trying still left him here, gaining ground towards the Prison of Elders. Place looked a damn mess on approach. He knew real well what’d happened here. Figured that it’d still be in nasty disrepair. Nadiya had heard from Shinobu who’d heard from Petra that things weren’t getting any better; sealing all the doors shut and letting all the different factions duke it out was the best option, except for the fact that whatever AI was running the remnants of the place was goin’ nuts.

Hence Shin’s presence. At least he’d had the option of going it alone. Any others would’ve only slowed him down. It was better like this, he thought as he broke away from open space, close enough towards the Prison to transmat off his ship. He touched down onto the metal catwalk inside the place nearly silently, intending on keeping this trip short, sweet, and simple.

His comms clicked on almost instantly. He readied himself for Petra’s intel.

“Hey there, you big, bad, hero man.”

Shin stopped short of walking forward into the tunnel, confusion pulling his brows together and his lips down into a frown. That wasn’t the voice he’d expected. “Drifter?”

“Mm- _hmmm_.” And hell, if the guy didn’t sound pleased. “Now, just what the hell d’you think you’re doin’ here, huh? Thought you were busy, I dunno, helpin’ old ladies across the City streets.”

“...You jealous or somethin’?”

Drifter barked a laugh. “About you pickin’ do-goodin’ over runnin’ rampant with me? Hell no, pal. I know your type. I never count on you.”

Shin definitely did _not_ feel hurt by that, and proved it by starting through the dark tunnels. He shot a Vex that walked into the open at just the wrong moment, then kicked its metal parts down into the darkness below the catwalk before brushing past to the first large, open area.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Drifter remarked. “Was it somethin’ I said?”

“You gonna give me anything useful?” Shin asked, popping three shots across the way at some fidgety Goblins. He switched targets when Fanatics stepped out, blowing one’s core right open in a brilliant spatter. The rest followed suit, and he made quick work of the angry Minotaur buzzing his way.

“Think I’ll just watch, thanks.”

Shin puffed a tiny exhale, shaking his head as he walked towards the rounded door, though he slowed when the sound system wired throughout the prison came to life with a faint static. “ _Prison of Elders welcomes you,_ ” echoed a voice heavy with reverb. “ _Impress your Warden, yyyesss?_ ”

Warden, huh. The door in front of him was closed; Shin gave a pointed look to the sky. “Thought this place was unmanned these days.”

Drifter made an _ehhhhh_ sorta noise. “Somethin’ like that.” A few click sounds later, and the door went _beep!_ and opened right up. Shin did not smile about it, not even a little. “That Servitor’s gone off the deep end, thinks it’s the new sheriff in town. Could always put it in its place while you’re here. Bring some order to the wildlands this Prison’s turned into.”

“That what I’m here for? Enforcement?”

“You tell me, quickdraw,” Drifter purred.

“Y’know,” Shin said, sidestepping a Goblin’s sudden fire to jam the barrel of his gun into its center. “I don’t reckon I’ll tell you anything.” The Goblin exploded in a burst of radiolaria. Shin shook off his glove and holstered his gun.

“Don’t tell me now, Shin Malphur’s a petty sonuva gun? Coulda fooled me.”

“Sarcasm ain’t attractive, Drifter.”

“Neither’s bein’ self-righteous.”

The back of Shin’s neck prickled with heat, but he refused to let the frustration show through. He focused his attention away from the comm in his ears, looking around at his options instead. The way forward was blocked by a train, which meant this must be the prisoner transport system. From the plans he’d pored over, the Prison was criss-crossed by train tracks that ran through every hotspot he wanted to hit before he left. Petra’s notes suggested simply following the tracks, but Shin had a better idea.

He set his Ghost on the control center to unlock the brakes of the train stopped in front of them, tapping his boot lightly against the floor as he waited. Radiolaria coated the floor, dripping from the wall. Fighting Vex was messier than he liked.

Shin heard the brakes drop, the train starting an uneasy, slow roll forward. His Ghost disappeared as he took a few quick steps towards the train. “Drifter.”

“Speakin’.”

“Open the train door.” The train started picking up speed into the tunnel. Shin broke into a jog.

“What makes you think I can?”

Shin sped up, barely keeping pace with the train now. “Opened that door for me a couple minutes ago, didn’t you?”

“Alright, got me there. What makes you think I _want_ to?”

Much longer, he was gonna miss his ride. Gritting his teeth, lungs just beginning to burn with the effort, he hissed, “ _Please_.”

Just as the door was slipping out of reach, it popped open. Shin lunged, catching the edge of the opening and pulling himself inside with a gasp. The world outside rushed by, wind whistling past louder and louder as the train reached its travel speed. Shin dropped into a sit on the floor, content to catch his breath and enjoy the ride for the moment.

“Pretty clever,” Drifter commented. “But that’s a one-way trip. If you take out the nutty Servitor, anyway. Transport’ll go down until every section’s been cleared out.”

“So I’ll clear it all out,” Shin said.

Drifter stayed silent long enough that Shin wondered if the line went dead. “Of course you will,” he muttered right as Shin was about to check the feed.

Shin rose to a knee to check his ammo, glancing over the Prison plans to refresh his memory. Almost to his first stop – deep into the Vex wing. Any luck, he’d push through fast, get to the lower reaches of the Prison, take out the Servitor, and loop around to clean out the rest around here. It shouldn’t take him long. He’d had worse assignments before, and all of those had been self-imposed.

“So what’re you doin’ clued into this?” Shin asked conversationally, peeking into his sniper’s scope to check the magnification.

“Don’t gotta tell you that, do I?” There was a nasty smile in Drifter’s voice.

Shin huffed, slinging the sniper onto his back. _Should’ve expected that._

Readying his hand cannon once more, he counted the seconds. The indicator at the roof of the train said they were nearing the Vex wing, but the train itself was only going to slow for a second, and not even by that much. Here, the Light was faint enough that a bad fall might take him down hard. Maybe even for good.

So he’d just have to do it right. Once, and only once.

_Three..._

The tunnel started opening up in front of the train. Shin took a couple steps back.

_Two…_

The train slowed, but only just. He faced the opening.

_One…_

Shin jumped.

Drifter’s exclamation was loud and clear in his ears – _you’re fuckin’ crazy!_ – even as the wind rushed past and the train roared and clattered. Shin’s shoulder and side slammed into a support column, the air knocked right outta his lungs. He hit the ground with a gasp, rolling onto his back to work breaths into himself.

His entire side felt brittle and bruised already, he really didn’t want to think about how it would feel later. Pain echoed through him as he checked his surroundings. The train was already long gone. The only sound was the rattle of metal and his rasping breaths.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going to be stabbed while he was down, Shin let his head drop back against the floor.

Drifter chimed in, sounding nonchalant, “Looks like a broken rib or three.”

“Feels like,” Shin coughed, “I got hit by a train.”

Drifter snorted. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Shin shifted onto his side, pushing himself up on his elbows. He got himself to his feet, wobbling only when he stood straight up, and leaned into the very same pillar that’d almost killed him. His Ghost flitted around him for a moment, scanning, then shook its head. So nothing was broken beyond repair, which was a good sign. And his shields had taken the brunt of the damage, but hadn’t absorbed it all; Hunter gear wasn’t built for resilience like that. But he still had pain zipping under his skin, and the Light here was throttled enough that it wasn’t going to be fixed in seconds like usual.

He’d manage.

“So.” Shin grunted as he shoved off from the wall, walking forward towards the next section of the Prison. “You didn’t know I was comin’ here.”

Drifter hummed. “What’s got you thinkin’ that?”

“Humor me.” Shin transmatted his sniper back into his hand, the weight making his shoulder burn. He dug teeth into the side of his cheek to keep him silent as he walked. “You said it yourself earlier. Besides, if you’re stickin’ around, you might as well distract me.”

The low, quiet rumble of a laugh he got in reply was enough to have the hair on the back of his neck standing up, but Shin wouldn’t ever admit to that that. “Guess that’s true,” Drifter said slowly.

“So,” Shin pressed again, kneeling in cover, two train tracks between himself and the Vex in the room.  It was the best positioning he was gonna get. “Distract me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Only ‘cause you’re a sorry fuckin’ sight right now, I’ll indulge you.” Drifter sniffed. Shin could picture the sneer on his face perfectly, defensive and prickly. He didn’t know how to feel about being able to get a crystal clear image of Drifter in his head. “What was it you said before… right, that I was surprised you dropped in. See, I actually was expectin’ someone else.”

“You’ve got friends?”

“Was talkin’ about our Guardian, _thanks_ , but hey, fuck you too.”

Shin bit back a smile and fired a sniper shot off at the farthest Hobgoblin, watching it explode. Its Solar shields didn’t have a hope of saving it from that one. He pulled the bolt back until it clicked, ribs screaming with every movement.

“You sound disappointed that I showed up,” Shin said, trying to push for more of that voice in his ear, anything to keep him from feeling the pain creeping right there under the surface of his armor.

“Yeah, well… Hey, that a Trust? I give you that? How’s it treatin’ you?”

Shin ignored him. The gun would speak for itself anyway, as any weapon should. He took shots at each Goblin that approached, trying to keep them at bay. They’d all turned to face him the second he’d pulled the trigger that first time – damn hiveminds – and they were like a dog after a bone. Couldn’t shake ‘em now, no choice but to fight through. For each shot, another Goblin fell. For every Goblin, another appeared to take their place.

The rails shook wildly from the trains roaring past. He kept himself at a distance, but the Goblins kept teleporting closer and closer. That was the damn problem with Vex; they never seemed to stop coming. At least Eliksni had the decency to look worried when Shin took their friends’ heads off. But Vex? No. Just because they were organic didn’t mean there wasn’t an uncomfortable amount of machine there.

He threw a knife threaded through with Solar energy onto the ground between himself and the oncoming army of Vex, then took cover in its brief explosion to reload.

“You’re alright,” Drifter said in his ear, dismissive, but then his voice took on a clever note. “Why don’t you come up to the Derelict after? We can chat about how you could do… better.”

Shin poked his head out and dodged a Goblin’s swipe and nearly ended right up in the claws of a second. He shot the nearest one in its glowing center before it could do him any damage, radiolarian fluid gushing all over his cloak and hissing through the cloth. “No,” Shin said, lining up another one-two-three Goblins with his Trust and watching them go _boom_. This was getting ridiculous. “No ‘we’ about it.”

“No?” Drifter hummed. Underneath that, Shin could hear him tapping away at whatever console he had in front of him.

Nearby, a door clicked and slid open. Shin chanced a look that way – a tunnel was open nearby. And seemed a lot more welcome than moving forward right about now.

“Plenty ‘we’ about it, goldie,” Drifter went on, amused. “Or did you forget you’ve asked me for a favor once already? Go on, get in there before you end up vaporized into the next century. You can thank me later.”

Shin hadn’t waited out Drifter’s entire spiel before he dove into the tunnel. The entrance snapped shut behind him, a severed Vex arm clattering down the couple of stairs towards him. He could’ve handled it – would’ve had to wait for the scarce amount of Light in the area to come to him, but he _could’ve_ handled it. It would’ve been a war of attrition that he came out of, burning and alive. But this reprieve wasn’t one he was about to turn down, considering the brutal ache lacing his ribcage.

The tunnel was dark and silent. Shin’s rasping breaths were only the second loudest thing in the room. Somehow, his heart pounded louder. His eyes adjusted slowly to the shadowy corridor. On this end, the door he’d come through; on the other end, another door. It was just wide enough for him to stretch his arms out to either wall and touch. This must be some sort of maintenance passthrough.

The walls rattled, the muted shudder cluing him in: _train_ maintenance passthrough, then. He could use this to get right down to the Servitor if he really wanted to sidestep everything else. Wasn’t a bad idea.

He settled down, head dropping against the wall. His body hurt, but his blood was still singing with adrenaline. Shin took his helmet off to breathe a little better. No Hunter _liked_ enclosed spaces like this, but something about the thrill had him thrown and excited. Sweat stuck his armor to him. He checked and re-checked his ammunition, then gave up, his want far from sated.

“You get tired of just watchin’, then?” he asked aloud, prodding, the words bouncing right back to him.

“Got bored,” Drifter said, lazy. “You weren’t entertaining enough.”

Shin licked his lips. “Want me to give you somethin’ to watch?”

“What, like…” Drifter trailed off as Shin started undoing his belt. “Fuck. You serious?”

“Keep the doors shut and locked for me, would ya?”

If he needed to, he could always tell himself that he was stripping down to check the damage from earlier. It wasn’t the same sharp pain as it was before, but it was still there enough that it was uncomfortable. Slow, slow Light.

But he didn’t need to tell himself anything other than _I want to do this_ , and so he was doing it – taking off his vest and discarding his chestpiece and pulling up the cloth top beneath his armor to get at his bottoms and shove his pants down low around his thighs. He pulled a glove off with his teeth, but just the one. Drifter made a strangled noise in his ear, and Shin liked that plenty enough to keep at it.

“Could just transmat you up here, y’know,” Drifter managed, going totally quiet as Shin licked his palm. He didn’t even bother with a reply, just wrapped his fingers around his cock, hard already from the rush of this, that, any of it. “ _Hell_. You’re really doin’ this.”

Shin didn’t even know where Drifter was watching from, or else he would’ve flipped him the bird. Instead, he tipped his head back high while working himself, twisting his wrist the right way and biting his tongue to keep his breaths even, each rise and fall of his chest sending a little reminder of hurt through his bones.

“Never expected Shin Malphur’d be a fuckin’ freak, gettin’ himself off in some corner of a good-for-nothing warzone,” Drifter was saying to him. Shin’s grip tightened around the base of his cock, a shudder of pleasure going down his spine. “What is it? The adrenaline? The crazy?” Drifter paused until Shin was right back to stroking up-down, and then he added, smile in his voice clear as all hell, “Is it _me_?”

Shin cracked. He made the tiniest sound, the smallest, sharpest gasp. Drifter’s laugh was low and rough in his ear and Shin burned all over for it, free hand clenching into a fist on the ground, jaw tight. (Didn’t stop touching himself, though; he was in too deep now to get embarrassed.)

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Shin muttered, lacking anything further, but Drifter cut him off anyway.

“It’s fine if it’s me,” Drifter all but crooned at him, so coaxing and smug that Shin wanted to punch him for it. “I’m reapin’ the benefits up here. I’ll even do you another favor and keep talkin’ to you. I know you like it, I see your hand movin’. Fuck, but that’s good.”

Shin’s stomach twisted, hot, and he braced a heel against the floor to push himself up the wall, to sit up straight even while his back arched and his ribs fought him with every movement. He thumbed at the head of his cock, feeling out the pre-cum there and groaning once past gritted teeth, rewarded with Drifter’s interested hum.

He was close. He was right on that edge, his hips raised just enough to get that angle right, his hand moving quick and hard and good on himself, and Shin asked, “You touchin’ yourself?”

“Come up here and find out.”

“Don’t need to,” Shin breathed, “I know you are.”

And that was all he needed to tip over that side, hips jerking and legs trembling as he came in his hand, gasping breaths too loud in the dark tunnel. Shin panted, heat sparking slow across his skin, then shivered at the pounding ache in his side. He’d live. His shoulder hurt worse, but that was what he got for overworking his injured arm. The endorphins were good though. Real good.

He stayed on the floor for an extra few seconds, listening to the labored breathing on the other side of the comm. Eyes shut, he raised his messy hand up to his mouth and gave it a long, slow lick.

The series of swears (and a moan) he got in response made everything worthwhile. Shin shook off his hand, digging a gun rag out of his inventory to wipe it clean before he got to his feet and fixed himself up again. The helmet went on last, though he checked his cloak for any dust or dirt since he’d been sitting on it.

It was only after he started off towards the other end of the tunnel that Drifter piped up again.

“You’re a nutcase,” Drifter said, sounding far more composed now that he wasn’t, Shin assumed, jerking himself off.

“No ‘thanks’ for givin’ you a show?”

Drifter muttered something under his breath, then said, “You owe me for all the shit I’ve been runnin’ on this mission for you. I didn’t sign up on your fireteam, last time I checked.”

“Think I just repaid you,” Shin said wryly. “Why’re you paying such close attention to the Prison if you ain’t interested in the betterment of it? Don’t tell me I’m wrong, either. I _know_ you.”

Drifter must’ve been weighing the odds of telling him, because he didn’t say anything at first. Not ‘til Shin reached the next door, inoperable, and had to wait for him to decide to actually lend another helping hand.

“Got contracted out by a certain Eliksni to retake the place from the mess it’s turned into,” Drifter said. While he beat around the bush, Shin readied his hand cannon. “Spider wants to sell it back, make a profit, see. I’m gettin’ a cut.”

“ _We’re_ gettin’ a cut,” Shin corrected.

“...Thought there wasn’t any ‘we’ about it.”

“Yeah, that was before I knew you were gonna pocket all the Glimmer while I jumped outta trains.”

Drifter grumbled but didn’t give him a hard _no_. Selling Shin Malphur short sounded like it could be a quick trip to hell, probably. Not that Shin would really shoot him for withholding rewards, but if that thought made it more likely that he’d give him at least 50% of his share, then hey, Shin wasn’t about to convince him otherwise.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Drifter finally said. Shin would have to work it out of him once he was done here. “Now go kill the damn Servitor so I get paid.”

Drifter opened the door. Shin set out to do the rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. :)
> 
> And a special thank you to everyone who provided me text/transcript of the strike!


End file.
